Falling Under You

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Falling Under You Page 5

by Laurelin Paige


  He was so close now, standing right in front of me, his eyes pinned to my mouth. I swept my tongue across my lips, wetting them.

  His expression grew stoic, controlled. “Because I said so and that needs to be enough when we’re in my court.”

  I cocked my hip. “It’s my first day. I’m new. Throw me a bone and tell me why anyway.”

  “Because I need to take my time with you, Norma, and that will take mental preparation on my part.”

  Besides excelling at negotiation, I was very skilled at persuasion. I took a confident step toward him. “You were perfect that night at the office without mental prep.”

  “I prepped long and hard for that night, believe me. It just took a while for an opportunity to arise to put my preparation to use.”

  “I bet you’re just as good at the spur of the moment.”

  He ignored me, raising his voice slightly to take command. “More importantly, you initiated being here tonight. Which I’m very happy about. It needs to be on my terms for this to be what I want and what you need.”

  “Then give me your terms. I can abandon my own.” It didn’t escape me that I was chasing him, and that this was exactly the sort of pursuit I was tired of. I was just so full of want and need that I couldn’t seem to stop myself.

  “My terms are that you stop trying to tempt me and go back to your room tonight.” His tone was sweet and charmed, but also tight, and I wondered if that meant his self-control was wearing thin.

  Time to move in for the kill. I untied my robe and let it fall from my shoulders, baring my naked form. “I don’t want to stop trying to tempt you.”

  The flicker of desire across his face was the only warning I had before Boyd grabbed my wrists and pulled me abruptly to him. He kissed me, roughly, passionately, dominantly. He kissed me until I was out of breath and so wet I had to press my thighs together to stop from dripping.

  Then, just as abruptly, he broke away. “You are going to try my restraint, aren’t you, Norma?” His voice was raw, threadbare. “The only reason I’m not punishing you for this is because I don’t think I can be around you for another minute without throwing you on the bed and claiming every inch of your gorgeous body.”

  “That was exactly what I was going for. Do it. I’m ready.”

  “No. You’re not.” He dropped my wrists and tugged my robe back over my shoulders. As he retied my belt, he whispered, “Not for what I want to give you.”

  I’d always loved a challenge. Always loved proving people wrong—proving men wrong. “I am ready.” I moved closer and palmed the bulge at his crotch.

  Oh. My. He was even larger than I’d guessed when I’d felt him pressing against me.

  Boyd chuckled as he pushed me away. Again. “And that right there proves that you really aren’t ready.” Gripping my shoulders, he spun me so my back was to him.

  I groaned as he walked me toward the door. “I don’t understand. I want you.”

  He sighed behind me then brought his mouth close to my ear, so close his breath was hot against my skin. “I want you too. You have no idea how much.” He rubbed his nose against my lobe before nipping at the sensitive skin. “But when I fuck you, Norma, I have to know that you’re going to let me lead. And I don’t know that yet.”

  Goose bumps sprouted on my arms and a delicious thrill ran down my spine at his talk of wanting and fucking and leading. Then he stretched past me to open the door and gently nudged me out.

  “I’ll watch you until you get to your room,” he said, kissing me on the forehead.

  Begrudgingly, I shuffled the three doors down to my suite, and when I chanced one final glance in his direction, the protective, possessive look on his face warmed me so deeply, it burned away any trace of disgrace I might have had at my dismissal.

  Oh, yeah, this was definitely going to be worth it.

  Chapter Five

  The next day, Boyd and I met for breakfast in the hotel restaurant before our meetings for the day. We didn’t have much time to talk before some peers from the conference joined us, but he did manage to tell me that he’d communicate by text in the future so we wouldn’t have to risk mentioning our relationship out loud, especially at work.

  “Keep the times we agreed upon free,” he said, “and I’ll let you know in the next few days when and where I want you.”

  When and where he wanted me. I wanted him anywhere. I wanted him now.

  But I had a feeling he meant to teach me patience. Especially when he made me wait almost a full week before texting me an address and a time.

  It was a Thursday, and he’d given me no time for running home to change after work, so I arrived at the Chelsea apartment wearing the same thing he’d seen me in all day. I’d put on sexy panties that morning, just in case, but I worried about that too since he’d said he wanted to dictate what underwear I wore then never mentioned it again.

  That concern occupied my mind as I took the elevator to the eleventh floor and walked the short hallway to his unit. Then when he opened the door, I couldn’t help blurting out, “You never told me what to do about my underwear.”

  He laughed, standing aside to let me in. “You won’t be wearing any for long.”

  His statement made my legs so weak, I wasn’t sure how they carried me inside. Combined with the yummy way he looked in faded jeans and a T-shirt, his feet bare, I was surprised I was even able to breathe normally. Fortunately, he took my hand, which helped keep me upright, and tugged me toward the kitchen island.

  “We’ll pick out some bras and panties later online,” he said as he half leaned, half sat on a barstool and began undoing the button at the cuff of my sleeve.

  “Okay.” But now I wasn’t really paying attention to what he said because I was checking out his apartment.

  It was nice. Really nice.

  The floors were hardwood, the kitchen modern and stainless steel. I didn’t know how many bedrooms there were, but the living space seemed large.

  “Uh, Boyd,” I asked, barely noticing that he’d moved on to my other wrist. “Excuse me for maybe speaking out of turn, but there’s no way you can afford this place on the salary I pay you. Are you a male escort or something in your off time?”

  With a slight grin, he pulled me closer and began unbuttoning my shirt.

  “I definitely couldn’t afford this on my salary. But I have other money.”

  I started to ask the source of his “other money” but was stopped by his finger to my lips.

  “We can talk about it later. Right now, I don’t want you to say anything at all. That’s your punishment for trying to seduce me in Montreal. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about your naked body all week. You can’t imagine how many hard-ons I’ve had to hide at the office.”

  I was more intrigued than ever about his income, but now he’d distracted me. “You’ve had hard-ons at the office?”

  “Norma, no talking.” He wrapped his hands in the material of my now open blouse and pulled me closer to place a kiss on the space between my breasts, just above my bra. “I need to thoroughly explore my possession, and to do that appropriately, I require total concentration.”

  I opened my mouth to either protest or purr—okay, it would have been purr; the idea of being owned by him made me all sorts of turned on—but Boyd shushed me with a stern look before removing my shirt the rest of the way. Silently, he unzipped my pencil skirt and pushed it down over my hips and to the floor. He swept his gaze over me, and without the permission to talk, I realized for the first time in my life how often I hid insecurity behind conversation. It was so much easier to stand nearly naked in front of a man when I was allowed to comment.

  I reached out to him—if I couldn’t talk, I had to show him how much I wanted to touch him. But he grabbed my wrists, stopping me. “No talking, no touching. In fact, as soon as I have you all the way undressed, I’m going to chain your hands to that hook behind me. Do you see it? Nod if you do.”

  I peered past him into the li
ving room and found a large hook fastened into one of the beams that crossed the ceiling and a link chain hanging down from it. An anxious thrill bubbled in my chest as I nodded in the affirmative.

  “Good,” he said, and heat spread through my body at his praise. “All I’m going to do is tie you and touch you. If you can’t keep yourself from talking, I’ll gag you as well, but I’d prefer to have your mouth free.” He noted my expression and added, “Not for what you’re thinking, naughty girl. I want you to be able to speak if anything I do bothers you. If you need me to stop.”

  “You want me to use a safe word?”

  He frowned at me sternly. “Do I need to gag you?”

  “I’m just trying—” to clarify, but I stopped myself when the look on his face told me that he would let me know everything I needed to know if I’d just be quiet. “No. You don’t need…” Dammit, I was still talking. “Sorry,” I whispered. Then mouthed another apology when I realized that whispering still counted as talking.

  Underneath his disappointed glare, I sensed he was amused by my inability to shut up. “If you need me to stop, you’ll say ‘stop,’” he said when he was certain I was done making a fool of myself. “Other times we may need a safe word. But for now, that will be enough. Nod if you understand.”

  I nodded, biting my lip to prevent any unwanted speech from slipping out of my mouth.

  “Good girl.”

  God, if he just spent the rest of the night expressing his approval with me, I was pretty certain that it would be the best sex I’d had in a long time. I loved hearing it, loved hearing him praise me in that tone of voice that said he was genuinely pleased. Loved it so much that it made me confident enough to stand proudly as he stripped off my bra and panties.

  He didn’t say anything more when I was naked in front of him, but the crotch of his jeans bulged, letting me know he liked what he saw. Without words, he led me to the living room to stand beneath the hook in the ceiling. On the couch lay two silk scarves and a set of leather handcuffs with a metal link chain between them.

  “Hands, please,” he said, and I held them out for him. He wrapped a cuff around one wrist and tightened it until it was snug then repeated it on the other wrist. Then he fastened the clasp on the end of the chain hanging from the ceiling to a link in the middle of the chain on my cuffs so my hands were stretched and suspended above my head.

  He looked me over, seemingly pleased with my appearance. Then he pulled off his T-shirt and tossed it aside before grabbing one of the scarves off the couch.

  I was tempted to remark that, in his faded jeans and nothing else, he looked quite like the hero from that one book—the book everyone had read—but the scarf was of more interest. “What’s that for?”

  He glowered. “This one’s to blindfold you, but the other is in case I need to keep you quiet.” He moved to stand right in front of me, so close that his chest brushed across my nipples. “I’ve been so looking forward to touching every part of you, Norma,” he whispered, “and I know you could love it too. But I promise it will be so much better if you’re silent. Just be a good girl and let yourself feel, okay?”

  I let out a long breath before I nodded. It shouldn’t be so hard to keep my mouth shut, and maybe he’d hit the nail on the head—maybe all the talking kept me from having to feel. In my lifetime there had been so many feelings that I’d wanted to avoid. Perhaps I handled them all now—turned them, inspected them, made them safe and sterile before putting them on.

  I didn’t want to live like that. Not if it meant missing out on the feelings that Boyd wanted to introduce to me.

  So I let out another breath as he tied the scarf around my eyes and resolved to be a model submissive for the rest of the night.

  Boyd spent the next fifteen minutes, longer possibly, doing just as he’d promised—touching me. He ran his fingers along every inch of my skin, then his lips, then his tongue, leaving no part of me unfelt or unexplored. With my sight gone and without the crutch of conversation, the rest of my senses perked up. My arms ached from being above my head for so long, but it became background sensation as I tried to guess where he’d go next, listening and feeling the heat of his body near mine, my muscles tensing in expectation. Over and over, he surprised me, and each startling caress notched my arousal up another level, even though his hands barely grazed my most erogenous zones.

  I’d had almost no experience with Boyd yet, but I was sure of one thing—the man was an excellent tease.

  As he fondled me, he’d praise me, commend me, admire me. “You’re so tight,” he said, spreading his hands over my ass, and I mentally applauded myself for all the miles I’d run over the years. Then his mouth was on me there, licking down to where my cheek met my thigh. “I could live with my face right here.”

  God. What would that be like? I’d be happy to find out. Even happier if he’d move his tongue to the space between my legs. I widened my stance, hoping he’d get the hint, but he only chuckled and continued with his own damn agenda.

  Just as the thrum at my core and the pain of my outstretched arms became too agonizing to remain silent, Boyd pulled me against him and angled his mouth over mine. He drank my unuttered cries, shaping my lips to mold with his. He slid his tongue across mine. Over mine. Around mine. He tasted familiar, like victory and mastery and promise, the way a newly acquired dividend looked like it would taste. In that kiss, I forgot about other lips and flavors and even about the other wants and desires licking their bold flames inside of me.

  Then he pulled away. The silk scarf came off of my eyes, and there he stood in front of me, his eyes burning with lust, his cock a firm rod tenting his jeans. “I should get dinner ready for us,” he said.

  And, yes, I was hungry. But food was the furthest thing from my mind.

  “That’s all?” I hadn’t meant to sound so annoyed. No, actually, I had meant it. “Not that I don’t appreciate the attention, just—”

  He’d reached up, presumably to unhook the chain of my cuffs from the ceiling, but he paused before doing so. “Did I say you could talk yet?”

  I flushed but pretended that I hadn’t. “You said we were done, so I assumed. Though, I’m not sure how this can be done when no one actually finished.” Ouch. The words stung as I heard them with my own ears, but it was too late to take them back now.

  Boyd didn’t seem to feel the sting. Instead he looked at me with growing curiosity. “No one actually finished… You mean because no one came?”

  “Yes, that’s exactly what I mean.” Talking about it pushed my need for release even higher.

  “We can fix that.” Boyd dropped his arms and began undoing his jeans.

  My mouth watered, and it didn’t matter what the rules were regarding speech, because I couldn’t have stopped myself from babbling if I’d wanted to. “God, Boyd, I want you. Please, let me have you. Please.” I’d never wanted to see a cock so much in my life. Never wanted to touch it so badly that I salivated.

  “I am letting you have me.” He pulled down his briefs just far enough to let his erection spring free. I gasped at how hard he was, how big he was. Boyd Barrett was hung. Who knew?

  I knew. Now I knew, anyway, and damn, I’d never been so excited about an endowment as I was about this one.

  My eyes were pinned to his hand as he circled his palm around his throbbing staff. “This is for you. All of this.” He pumped his hand down his length. “Watch me stroke myself. This is only because you asked for it. Because you wanted me so badly.”

  I pulled at the chain above me, desperate to have his cock. “I want you inside me, Boyd. Let me have you. Let me suck you.”

  “No.”

  My heart tripped over that one word. I must have heard him wrong, surely. “What?”

  “This is what I want to give you, Norma. This alone.” He continued to stroke himself as he spoke, and I suddenly understood he had no intention of giving me what I so eagerly wanted.

  “No! Please! Boyd!” I was unable to make a com
plete sentence, my words falling out in short, staccato pleas of frustration.

  “Appreciate this, Norma. Watch this. Keep watching. I love your eyes on me while I jerk off. Almost as much as I love looking at you while I do it. It’s you that’s made me so fucking hard, and I’m going to come even harder. All for you.”

  God, oh, god. I was clamping my thighs together, trying to stifle the strength of the pulsing while at the same time begging for Boyd to ease it in other ways. “Please. Please. I want you. Please!”

  His strokes came quicker, his hand moving faster and faster along the length of his erection, the muscles in his forearm growing more taut and strained.

  “Tell me where you want me to come,” he said, his voice tight as it interrupted my hoarse appeals.

  “What?” I was having a hard time concentrating.

  “On you or in my hand. Tell me where to come.” He took a step closer to me. “Hurry, Norma—decide.”

  Where to come. He wanted me to decide where he should come. His expression tightened, and I realized what he was asking as his face contorted with the onslaught of his orgasm.

  “On me! On me!” I pushed the words out just in the nick of time, arching toward him to catch every drop of the hot stream of his climax on my belly. He groaned as he came, his lids heavy with ecstasy, his body tense as he emptied himself.

  Hell, it was the most erotic thing I’d ever seen. I almost came just from the sight.

  When he was finished, we were both sweaty and breathless. And the way he was looking at me now, his expression sated and oh so pleased at the artwork he’d left on my skin—I could live forever with that gaze, even if I never got off myself.

  Okay, maybe that wasn’t quite true. I was more aroused than I’d ever remembered being, but somehow, his release felt more gratifying than I knew an orgasm of my own would have felt.

  He reached above me to unhook my hands and said quietly, “You’ll stay the night tonight. I didn’t prepare you to stay, but there’s no way I can let you go home. I should have everything you’ll need.”

 

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